Then came the cable that you were in Canton, ill, but not dangerously so. "Lost no time on the road—eh!—I didn't expect you till to-morrow at the earliest. She was only trying to distract you so that she might escape. Sheppard, horror-stricken. The white veil had fallen to the ground and Gerald retrieved it for her. Old Bethlehem, or Bedlam,—every trace of which has been swept away, and the hospital for lunatics removed to Saint George's Field,—was a vast and magnificent structure. She laughed a little contemptuously. "To paint your portrait," answered the jailer. " This went on for ten days. Will you forgive me—if I say no more?” She looked at him with perplexed, earnest eyes. "Your sister is dead," said he, in a deep whisper. “I do wish you and your father could come to some agreement. “You must not.
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